Bitch Witch (12 page)

He had seemed okay using the haul he had found his first day cleaning, but only for groceries and household purchases, which this week had included ordering new locks for all the doors. But when she had suggested he get some new jeans at True Religion, he’d acted scandalized and insulted.

Paul crossed one leg over a knee of his ancient holey jeans. “I love these movies,” he said over a mouthful of popcorn. “Did you see the last one?”

Sarah had to admit she’d never seen any. During the previews anxiety crawled through her stomach and dark matter gathered in her peripheral vision like living dust motes, awaiting opportunity. Scenes of mindless violence flickered across the screen and in the dark Sarah could see dark matter swirling around the heads of people in the audience.

Once the movie started, Sarah relaxed into her cushioned seat. The violence seemed cartoonish and the characters made her laugh. Dark matter receded as though growing bored, drifting outside her line of vision. Several times Paul leaned close to whisper backstory into her ear, and Sarah poked him on occasion to hiss questions.

It didn’t occur to her that they were bothering anyone because the theater erupted into comments and laughter and protests from time to time. The interactive feel of the audience made it more fun than sitting at home and watching a movie alone, and Sarah was glad they’d come. She poked Paul’s leg during a fight scene and whispered, “Who’s the blue guy?”

A teenager in front of them stood so fast she startled. He shouted at her, “Bitch, really?”

To her amazement, easy-going, polite, Oklahoman Paul Revere Longfellow nearly shot over the seat to get in the kid’s face. “After the movie, little boy. Outside!”

The stupid kid with glazed eyes and flecks of dark matter roosting in the irises pounded his chest like an animal in the zoo and said, “Why wait, asshole?”

“Because I’m watching the movie, Opie,” said Paul, settling back into his seat as people called for them to settle down.

“Yeah, that’s right. You sit down with your dumb-ass
who’s-the-blue-guy-dumb
bitch.”

Paul shot out of his seat so fast clouds of dark matter parted and swirled. He grabbed the kid’s long pale hair, hauled him half over the back of the seat and punched him squarely in the jaw. Sarah felt the blow land as dark matter flowed from the air around them, taking form in Paul.

“No!” She grabbed onto his elbow but he pulled free, landing another punch. “Paul.” She allowed power to slide into her next word. “
Stop
.” His fist froze in mid-swing, and he glared at her with an expression not his own. Sarah recognized the look of disappointed dark matter roosting there. She pushed him back into his seat.

“Yeah, you better stop, motherfucker!” the kid wheezed, regaining his footing.

“Hold your dick,” Sarah said, keeping her voice low. He obeyed, grasping it with both hands. “Don’t talk. Not a word. Hold your dick and your words.” The dark matter flowed into Sarah now and only the audience stopped her from making the spell worse, forcing her to speak quietly and calmly. “Hold your dick and your words until you cry with regret.”

The kid squeezed himself and mouthed something vulgar at her.

Sarah smiled at him, whispering, “So for a while then, jackhole.”

“What’s going on here?” Accompanied by unhappy audience members, two ushers shone flashlights into Paul and Sarah’s faces. “Take your seats, everyone! The sooner you sit down, the faster you can get back to your movie.”

Sarah waited until they had climbed over seats and past legs to where she stood glaring at the skinny dick holder. “They started it,” she said with power in every word. “They should go to jail. Look what that kid is doing.”

The kid yanked at himself as though trying to pull his hands away, but it only made his movements look obscene.

“What about him?” said an old man to Sarah’s right, pointing at Paul. “He punched that kid.”

The dick holder nodded.

“Paul’s a vet,” said Sarah, as though that explained or excused it. With a small cast it did. More ushers came and escorted the dick holder and his complaining friends away. Talking eventually died down and attention returned to the screen.

Paul glared at Sarah as she settled in for the rest of the movie. Neither of them touched their drinks or popcorn or whispered again. The theater took on the strained ambience Sarah would have expected from the first. Dark matter kept her from focusing on anything but Paul. It swirled around him as though it had found a new residence and only needed a way inside.

Braced for the aftershock, Sarah never expected the full force of her very own spell to rebound and slam against her. It blindsided her, shoving her further against the comfortable seat and knocking her soft drink to the floor. Unnatural heat warmed her thighs and she slid her hands up the length of them. Only sheer witch stubbornness kept her from embracing the spell and exploring between her legs. Paul watched her from his peripheral vision as she slid her hands up her body and brushed against her own breasts. She managed to jam both hands beneath her armpits and trap them there, fighting the spell as it bore against her in its entirety. Dark matter stabbed angrily through her breasts and crotch, protesting her lack of cooperation.

I will NOT play with my own tits!

Spells didn’t often rebound. Fuming, Sarah tried to think why this one had. That kid sure as hell wasn’t so full of light he could repel a spell so quickly.
Maybe someone of light prays for him—a lot!
Whatever the reason, she knew that wherever he was he no longer clutched his dick, since her fingers now longed to clutch a non-existent penis of her own. Swearing mentally, Sarah no longer noticed the movie.

Unable to keep her hands trapped beneath her arms, she wrestled in her seat until she managed to sit on them. Paul crossed his arms and turned away, his focus pointedly on the screen. His obvious anger made the tears in Sarah’s eyes run down her cheeks and, just that fast, the spell broke.
Until you cry with regret.
Her own words set her free, but instead of relief Sarah wanted to stomp her feet and swear in frustration.

The movie ended at last and they followed the crowd out into the lobby. Without a word Paul went into the men’s restroom and Sarah queued up for the ladies’ restroom. She kept her hands beneath her armpits, prepared for the overdue aftershock, and waited impatiently. There was zero temptation to cast her way to the front of the line.

A familiar voice sounded from behind her. “Hey, lesbian girlfriend.”

Everyone looked, and Sarah turned to grin at Mindy from work, her mood lightening.

“Hey.”

“Was that your boy-toy I saw pounding on some twerp in the middle of my movie?”

“It was.”

“That’s good. We were all getting bored just watching our sixteen dollars a person movie that we paid for.”

Several of the women in line shot unhappy and judgmental looks in Sarah’s direction. “Sorry.”

“Whatever. Can’t believe you don’t know who the blue guy is. I’m probably breaking up with you for that. If I’d been sitting in front of you, I’d have punched you myself.”

Sarah grimaced. “See you Monday?”

“Not unless you’re holding donuts and you edu-ma-cate yourself about who the blue guy is.” Mindy got out of the unmoving line, lecturing as she made her way to the door, “Reabsorption. It’s a thing, happens when the line is long enough. Makes blue eyes green, because yellow mixed with blue makes green. Did you know that? See what color mine are? Yeah? Not green, are they?” Mindy tried to make her way past the crowd of women clogging the entrance to the ladies room. “You might want to move so I can get out of here before something worse blows out.”

PAUL DROVE HOME. Sarah didn’t mind. She scooted low in the passenger seat and put her feet on the dashboard, pretending that his silence didn’t hurt, but it did. The aftershock had finally hit and cut up the inside of her mouth. It bled a bit.

Miles before the house Paul steered the Jeep off the main roadway and parked it beside a still black pond with an old gristmill on the far bank. A bright moon hung silver and low over the trees. The last time Sarah had been here, the cops had been dragging the pond.

“We shouldn’t stop here.”

Paul took a sip of his giant Dr Pepper. “I want to know why it was okay for you to do what you did, but not me. Because I probably would have punched that punk a few times and he’d have shut his mouth. What you did—Sarah, people are going to think he has either a mental condition or that he’s some sort of sex offender. You went too far.”

“I didn’t want you to get arrested.” The truth of Paul’s words hurt, but she kept her answer short.

“Why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me the truth? At least not the whole truth?”

Sarah shrugged, staring through the Jeep’s square window. There didn’t seem to be any point in telling him that the spell hadn’t affected the kid for long, nor in explaining a rebound. Not unless he’d noticed and asked why she’d watched the movie for a while with her hands beneath her jacket, tucked up inside her bra. After a moment of quiet she swallowed a bit of blood and said, “See that ring of light around the moon? It looks huge tonight, but the truth is the night sky is made up of dark matter with only that much light to hold it at bay until morning.”

Paul leaned forward to squint over the steering wheel. “There’s too much light pollution here to really see the night sky as it is. This is practically an optical illusion. There are so many stars in the Milky Way that in many places the sky glitters with light at night.”

Sarah recalled nights spent with her family when they’d traveled to other places. She’d seen the skies Paul spoke of. But there was a saying witches liked to quote. “
‘Dark always wins because there’s so much of it.’
”

“You can’t think like that. It isn’t your job to win the war, Sarah. It’s only your job to win the battle.”

“Are you quoting me soldier advice?”

“I’m quoting you logic. What’s wrong with your mouth? You’re talking funny.” He leaned forward to gaze at her in the faint light of the dashboard. “Your lips are swollen.”

“It’s the price for casting.”

Paul widened his eyes and hit the light on the ceiling, turning it on. “Open your mouth. I want to see.”

Sarah obeyed, watching his expression. His dark brows pulled together and he growled, “God, Sarah. It looks like someone took razors to your mouth.” He hit the light again to shut it off and put the car in gear. “Let’s go wash that out with salt water. Does that always happen?”

“Mmphf. It varies.”

”Does it last long?” Paul pulled the vehicle onto the main road.

“That varies too. Depends on how big I cast.”
And what torment dark matter is in the mood for.
Sarah watched the woods flit past the window as the car sped down the road. She blinked back tears of pain. Choosing to ignore aftershock pain wasn’t an option. Dark matter didn’t make anything that easy.

ENTERING THE FRONT door while juggling the mail, newspapers, and his large soda, Paul tried to tug his key out of the new door lock and dropped his Dr Pepper. The edge of the giant cup hit the marble of the foyer as Sarah turned her eyes toward it and automatically corrected the mistake. Willing liquid and ice back into the cup and the lid onto the rim came second nature. The cup shot back through the air in an arc and came to rest in Sarah’s hand. It wasn’t until she turned her eyes in Paul’s direction that she realized how shocking it might be for him. “I’m sorry. I’m so comfortable with you I didn’t think.”